A Language Not Yet Known
by LiteraryMirage
Summary: AU: Will Demyx work up the courage to finally talk to the cute writer he's been pseudo-stalking since freshman year?


A/N: Highly influnced by the song _I Will Possess Your Heart_ by Deathcab for Cutie; I highly recommend this song, as I think it's great for Zemyx! Also, Zexion totally ended up taking over this little story, much to my amusement. So much for a quickie one-shot!

* * *

He had noticed the slate-haired young man studying across the quad from his dorm freshmen year. All through that year, the other would quietly sit on the bench underneath the maple tree at the same time every day, taking out a stack of books and a notepad before settling in to read and take notes for a couple hours. And every day, at the same time, he would go out of his way to pass by the young man, lingering a few extra moments as he admired the object of his affections.

* * *

The following year, Demyx had to search a little harder to find that same young man with the unusually coloured hair; new year, new dorms and all that. It took until almost the end of the first term before he saw the other in the library while he was looking for books to use for a paper. Watching as thin fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind an ear, he struggled to summon the courage to approach his quarry. After all, how hard could it be to introduce himself to a fellow classmate?

Apparently, it was harder than one would think, as Demyx quickly turned on his heel and rapidly exited the library, books tucked nervously under his arm. _Fool! You had your chance and passed it up! He's obviously not living on campus, you've checked all of the dorms!_ Sighing, he resigned himself to catching scant glimpses of his desire, if he was lucky. Readjusting the strap of his messenger bag after stuffing his books inside of it, he headed off for his room, expression just a little less cheery than it had been when he entered the library.

* * *

It was with utter shock that the blond entered the room on the first day of the following term and spied the man he had all but been stalking quietly sitting near the window at the first table. _B-but…what's he doing here? He's never been in one of my classes? Oh god, what should I do?_ Nervously attempting to smooth down the atrocity he called his hair, he approached the empty seat next to the youth.

"E-excuse me, i-is this seat taken?" he stammered.

Dark blue eyes meet jade, completely stalling Demyx's train of thought. "No, you may sit here if you like," the young man answered, moving his books to make room for Demyx to set his own supplies down. Tossing his bag on the floor next to the empty chair, the blond sat down and bent to dig his notebook out of it. As he straightened, he noticed the other young man was watching him curiously.

"I'm sorry, but you look awful familiar," a softly smooth voice spoke, interrupting his attempts to gather his thoughts.

"Umm… well, we're both sophomores, right? So I'm sure you've seen me around campus," he answered. _Please, don't let him have seen me watching him. I think I just might die if he had._

"Yes, I suppose that makes sense," the other replied, glancing around briefly at the other students filtering before returning his attention back to Demyx. "I don't recall seeing you in any of my lit classes before; did you just switch majors?"

"N-no, I'm taking this as part of my music theory major. Y'know, lyrical poetry and all that. I want to improve my lyric composition, so I thought this would be a great way to do that," Demyx said with a sheepish smile, right hand rubbing the back of his head out of habit.

"Oh, I see," the other said, fidgeting with his pen. Just then, the professor walked in, clad in corduroy, button-down and oxfords, set his materials on the lectern and proceeded to lean casually against the small table placed just in front of the whiteboard.

"Oh! I'm Demyx, by the way," the blond said brightly, holding out his hand, completely oblivious to the fact that the rest of the class had started to quiet down under the gaze of the leonine professor.

"Zexion," the slate-haired man answered, accepting the hand offered. "I believe our erstwhile professor would like to begin class," he added quietly, leaning over to speak into Demyx's ear. The blond missed the smirk that flickered over the other's face as he shivered slightly at the warm breath stirring the strands of hair near his ear.

"Alright, if everyone's settled?" the professor spoke, clearing his throat to garner their attention. "I am Dr. David Browning, but please call me David. Doctor or professor makes me feel so old!" he laughed. "In any case, welcome to Lyrical Poetry; if you're not supposed to be here, I suggest you leave now, as I will not tolerate anything less than your best efforts. We will be studying some of the greatest lyricists of the literary and musical worlds, as well as writing our own lyrics and poetry. Your grades will be based upon discussion participation, two papers on lyricists of your own choice, weekly assignments, in-class exercises and a final presentation. Any questions?"

Waiting a few moments, he smiled at his students before standing and pulling a stack of papers out of his bag. "Here's your syllabi, all of the assignments and due dates are listed. Please take one and pass it along," he said, setting it down on the table shared by Zexion and Demyx. As the papers were passed around, the students quietly murmured amongst themselves. The last student brought the extra syllabi back to the front, handing it to the professor before turning and returning to her seat.

"Thank you," David said lowly, waiting for the girl to be seated before continuing. "Okay, now that that's done, let's get started! Why don't you take turns introducing yourselves? Zexion, if you could start please? Just say your name, class year and something interesting about yourself."

Zexion nodded, having been through this with Professor Browning before. "I'm Zexion Gaiman, I'm a sophomore English major, and recently I had one of my stories published in the newest compilation of Writers of the Future," he said, directing a small grin at the professor. It had been Dr. Browning who had suggested that the aspiring writer submit his work, and had acted as an editor for Zexion.

Demyx felt his eyes widening; he'd never guessed that the handsome young man was a _published_ author. Next to him, he felt practically inadequate. Knowing it was his turn next, he swallowed before clearing his throat. "I'm Demyx Zimmerman, sophmore and well, I haven't done anything as amazing as getting published, but I am a musician, a music theory major actually. Uhm, that's about it, really!" he said, glancing quickly to his left where his table companion was smirking slightly with an eyebrow raised. He flushed a little, eyes dropping to skim over the syllabus as the rest of the students introduced themselves and gave the obligatory tidbits of information.

They were given their first assignment and then dismissed; it was the first day of class after all. In the rush of everyone packing up and exiting, Demyx was shocked to find that he and Zexion were the last to leave, although he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to find the dark haired youth chatting with their professor; it was obvious the two knew each other and it was likely that this was not the first class the writer had taken with Dr. Browning. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he lifted his hand in a small wave, calling "See you around!" nervously before scooting out the door.

* * *

By the end of the second week of classes, Demyx's roommate Axel, was seriously considering smothering the musician with his own pillow. The exuberant blond constantly sang the praises of how brilliant Zexion was, as well as being almost unbearably attractive.

"Oh man, Axel, you should have been there! His poem was _amazing!_ It would make the most fantastic song, if only I could convince him to let me compose some music to go with it," he said, flopping on his bed with a goofy grin.

"So why don't you just _ask_ him already? Gods Dem, you're as bad as a woman!" the redhead groused, tapping away on his laptop.

"I-I could n-never do that... he'd _never_ let me do that. I mean, he's had his work _published!_"

"I know. You've told me. Multiple. Times. And I don't mean just ask him to use his lyrics for a song, ask him _out_. Before I'm forced to club you with your damn sitar!"

Demyx blushed, looking down at the floor. "I _can't_ Axel. I _know_ he'll say no. Before this class, he never knew I even _existed_," he said softly. "He probably doesn't even _like_ guys."

Axel quirked a thin eyebrow at his suddenly depressed roommate. His sources had informed him that the quiet writer had actually been acutely aware of Demyx watching him all of last year, had even enjoyed the music played by the blond within easy hearing distance while he worked on his homework. They had even mentioned that Zexion found Demyx to be not only a competent lyricist, but someone he wouldn't mind spending more time with. It was with this knowledge that a shark-like grin spread across his face. "Actually, I'm pretty sure you're completely wrong Dem. If you don't ask him out, even if it's just for coffee by midterms, _I_ will ask him out _for_ you. And not only that, I bet you one week's worth of meals that he'll say yes if you ask him," he said.

Looking up at his roommate, Demyx shook his head, "I think you're wrong... but... for a week's meals? You're on." He held out his hand and they sealed the deal.

Axel felt a moment of victory, knowing he'd get seven days of free meals out of this, not to mention a potential end to Demyx's constant moaning about how he'd _never_ have a chance with Zexion. _Not a bad deal, if I do say so myself_. "Just make sure you remember the part where you have to ask him before midterms," he smirked, returning to IMing his potential hook-up, a freshman named Roxas.

* * *

Walking into the classroom, Dr. Browning smiled at the students waiting for him, giving them time to quiet down. "Well gang, we're going to try something new today," he said, sitting on the front table. "I would like all of you to work in pairs on a team writing exercise; for efficiency's sake, let's just stick with the pairs you're already sitting in. Eric, if you could move to sit with Lana, you two can work together." Once the indicated students had moved, he continued. "What I would like all of you to do is to decide amongst yourselves and have one of you write one line of a poem and pass it to your partner, who will then write the next line before passing it back. There is no set length, but I would like to see at three to five poems completed for next class. You will have all of this class to work on this, and anything no finished will be homework. Any questions?"

Intrigued by this assignment, Zexion raised his hand. "Yes, Zexion?"

"Is there a specific style or tone you would like us to work within?" he asked.

"Nope, whatever inspires you is acceptable. However, I _will_ have to insist that if anyone decides to write a haiku will have to complete double the number of poems, since they're so short," David smiled at the class. "Alright, now get started! I expect some interesting results!"

"Well, do you want to go first or shall I?" the slate haired boy turned to Demyx, who appeared to be slightly flustered.

"Uh... why don't you write the first line for this one? Maybe we can take turns on starting?" he suggested, scratching the back of his head while smiling sheepishly.

"Alright, that sounds fine to me," Zexion replied, turning to a clean page in his notebook. Chewing on the end of his pen in thought, he finally wrote down what seemed to Demyx like a very long line. Turning his head to the side, he studied it briefly before nodding to himself and passing the notebook over. "Okay, your turn."

Reading the line, the blond found himself feeling somewhat outdone; _how the hell do I respond to that?_ He reread it three times before he finally found the right voice for the poem. All around the room was the sound of pens scratching against paper and quiet voices as the pairs worked on their assignment. Occassionally, someone would laugh at what their partner had wrote. Finally pleased with his line, he slid the notebook back over to Zexion. The other made a soft _'hmm'_ as he read it, nodding once again as he quickly wrote the next line, apparently pleased with what the musician had responded with. So it continued for the next hour or so, every once in a while one would ask the other for clarification or make a suggestion that would improve the flow.

By the end of class, they had managed to complete one poem and had started a second. Chewing on his bottom lip, Demyx tried to figure out the best way to approach the subject of finishing their assignment outside of class. _Now's my chance! C'mon Dem, you finally have a legitimate reason to spend time with him outside of class. You can even ask for his number!_

"Well, looks like we still have a bit to finish," Zexion spoke calmly as he closed his notebook and slid it into his bag. "You live on campus, right? There's this nice little café just south of campus that's near my apartment; it has really great tea and lovely pastries. How's meeting there later sound?"

"Y-yeah, I wasn't able to find a decent apartment that didn't cost a small fortune, and my roommate and I are both on pretty tight budgets," he said._ You're rambling! Stop it! He doesn't care about stupid stuff like that!_ "Th-that sounds great! I have lab until six, so uh... would six-thirty be okay?"

"Sure, that works. I'm done with class before that, but it's not a problem. Hey, why don't we exchange numbers, that way you can give me a call once you're done with class," he smiled, and something in it made Demyx's stomach do gymnastics.

"Right. Yeah, that's a good idea," the blond smiled. "Here, hand me your phone and I'll put my number in, then if you call me, I can save your number into mine."

Nodding, Zexion handed his phone over, waiting patiently. Momentarily blanking on his number, Demyx finally pressed the numbers in and saved it. "There, now just ring mine," he said, jumping a little when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he silenced it and saved the other's number. "R-right... well, I gotta run, so I'll call you later!" he smiled and quickly made his exit.

Zexion nodded, "See you later." A moment later, he smirked to himself as he stood and exited the now empty classroom. _Well well, that was more successful than I hoped for._

* * *

All but running down the stairs, Demyx just barely managed not to trip over his own feet in his haste to exit the building. Digging his cell phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through his list of contacts in search of Zexion's number. _I should just assign him a speed-dial number. It's not as if I use all of the ones available anyways. But would that be too forward?__ Making assumptions that probably aren't correct._ Pressing send, he waited nervously for Zexion to answer, continuing to jog quickly across campus.

_"Hello?"_

"H-hi... Zexion? This is Demyx," he said nervously, glad that he had something to keep him from gnawing off his nails from nerves.

_"I know, your name showed up on my phone when it rang. Are you done with class then?"_

"Mm-hmm! Sorry it's a little later than I said it would be... class ended up running over because of the discussion after the lecture. You said the café was south of campus, right? What was it called?"

_"Don't worry about it, Demyx. It happens to all of us once in a while," _a soft chuckle._ "Ah, yes. Just take Twilight Ave for a block, it's on the corner of Twilight and Sunset Boulevard, and it's called LunaTea."_

"Right. Corner of Twilight and Sunset, got it," he panted slightly, weaving his way around other students, the southern gate looming up in front of him.

_"Demyx? Are you running?"_

"Uh, maybe?"

_"You don't need to do that, you know. I have no problem waiting for you, since it takes me all of five minutes to walk to LunaTea from my apartment. There's no rush."_

The sound of keys jingling and a door closing could be heard distantly through his phone, bringing a small smile to Demyx's face. "So... are you just leaving now then?"

_"Yes, as it seems you are quite impatient to make up the time you think was lost in your class. Only, there is no time wasted in the pursuit of knowledge,"_ a smile was audible in Zexion's voice and soon, the sounds of passing cars joined the background noise.

"I'm just uh... really excited about this project! I think it's really fun!" he smiled, starting down Twilight Avenue._ It's not a complete lie! I really do like this assignment that Professor David gave us; it makes me think of what it might have been like when Lennon and McCartney wrote their songs together._

_"Uh huh, sure Demyx. You're still running aren't you,"_ another soft chuckle, accompanied by the tinkling of a bell (obviously of the sort hung above doors to alert the entrance of potential customers).

"Kinda? Wait! I think I see the café! Is it all blues, greens and purples? With cute little stars and moons?" he smiled, turning the corner onto Sunset and finally slowing to a walk.

_"Yes, although I don't know if I would describe it as cute,"_ a pause and then another laugh. _"Oh, I think I see you! Head towards the back... there are a bunch of couches and some tables. It's where I usually sit when I come to work on my papers."_

"Ah! Right! I see you," Demyx smiled, waving to the other student as he made his way to the back of LunaTea. _What a weird name, but it seems like a nice enough place. I can see why Zexion would like it._

"Just how fast were you running? I think you made it across campus in record time!" Zexion laughed as Demyx collapsed onto the couch next to him, bag slumping to the floor.

"Dunno. Pretty fast I think," the blond smiled. "Do they have any food here? And I'm _totally_ thirsty now."

"Yeah, I think they have some sandwiches... maybe soup. I seem to recall getting soup once or twice," he shrugged. "And no wonder you're thirsty! I told you that you didn't need to run, there's no hurry."

"Ooh, soup and a sandwich sounds _divine_. Ugh... but that requires getting up and _moving_."

Lifting his visible eyebrow, Zexion gave the apparently now boneless and exhaused blond an amused look. "Alright, how about this then... I'll go get us something to eat and drink, since I was the one who suggested that we meet off-campus. Sound fair?" he stood and looked down at his companion.

"That sounds grea-- _wait_. I can't ask you to pay for me!" squirming on the couch, he searched for his wallet, ignoring the look the slate-haired boy was giving him.

"Dem, don't worry-"

"Crap. Uh.. what do you think I can get for..." he shifted through his wallet. Dug in his pockets in hopes of finding some change. "Um... 2.69?"

"A tea, and I told you not to worry about it, Demyx. I can take care of the tab," slate bangs were flicked back, allowing both of Zexion's eyes to focus intently on the musician, daring him to contradict him again. "Now let me guess... turkey on wheat, no mayo with... hmm minestrone? No, clam chowder?"

"Wow," Demyx stared at his crush. _How the **hell** did he guess that?_ "That's _amazing_. Completely spot on! Just get some muenster on the sandwich, and New England style chowder... god, that sounds so _good_ right now."

Lips quirking up into a smirk, the writer nodded. "I'm just that good," he replied. "I'll be right back." He silently thanked their mutual friends for giving him that very useful information as he walked back to front counter and placed his order for their food and drinks.

When he returned a few minutes later with a heavily laden tray, it was to find that Demyx had somehow managed to sprawl even further across the couch and was contently reading the notebook he had left on the table, humming softly. Not only that, but the musician had apparently shifted around so that his head was on the cushion where Zexion had been sitting. Setting his burden down, he nudged the blond so that he could reclaim his seat. "Hey, food. You gotta sit up so you can eat," he said, dispersing the food; turkey and chowder with an iced chai for Demyx (he'd taken a while guess on the chai), while another turkey with tomato soup and a latte for himself.

"Ooooh, that smells _really_ good," Demyx exclaimed, sitting up and closing the notebook. "Oh! You even got my favourite drink! You are so my new favourite person ever! Even better than Axel and I live with him!" he gave the surprised writer a quick hug before digging into his food.

"I'll keep that in mind for future reference," Zexion smirked and blew carefully on his soup before eating a spoonful. "So if I'm your new 'favourite person,' what kind of benefits do I get?" _C'mon little fishy, take the nice bait._

"Uh-uhm, wh-what do you mean?" the musician stammered, blushing slightly and almost choking on his sandwich. _Shit. He is not implying what I think he is. He can't be!_

"Well," the writer sat back, carefully cradling his mug of soup. "It's obviously an important position, and _everyone_ knows that important positions come with benefits."

"Oh. Well... umm... that is," he blushed further at the mention of _positions_ and _benefits_, his mind going straight _(hah! as if there's **anything** straight about me!)_ to some of the more lascivious dreams he'd had over the last few weeks. _Is it possible for someone to spontaneously combust from blushing? I bet Axel knows..._

"Are you alright? You look quite flushed, Demyx. Maybe you should rest a little before we start on our project," Zexion suggested calmly, reaching up to rest a cool hand against Demyx's vividly flushed cheek. He grinned when the blond unconsciously leaned into it, and graciously decided to let the topic of benefits drop for the moment.

"M-maybe that's a g-good idea," Demyx said softly reaching for his soup mug. He internally told himself that Zexion's hand on his cheek _really_ hadn't felt as nice as it did, and he was not in fact, disappointed when it was removed so that its owner could continue eating.

Zexion was hard-put not to grin at Demyx's reactions and obvious internal dialogue. _I **know** you're not as dense as you act Dem. And I also know that you **like** me... Lex told me he's seen you watching me since last year, and he also mentioned your roommate complaining about you not doing anything about it._ He allowed the silence to stretch as both students focused on filling empty bellies, while their heads were already full of inner ponderings.

Sitting back with his latte, the slate-haired boy sipped it while surrepticiously watching his companion. The blond was just finishing the last bite of his sandwich and was now enjoying his iced chai with an expression of utter pleasure. "So Demyx, you like chai and music, what _else_ do you like?"

"Huh?" Demyx jumped slightly. "Oh um... I like the ocean, any body of water really. Um... I dunno, I like a lot of things... my mom, my brother, my roommate Axel, the rest of my friends..." he looked over at his companion with a gentle smile. _I want to tell him! Gods know I want to tell him! But I can't. I **can't!**_

"So you like water? That really explains the flow all of your poems and lyrics have," Zexion replied. "I wonder, does your music have that same flow? Do _other_ aspects of you have the power and flow of water." _Just say it! Please!_

"Uh, I guess?" the musician gave the writer a confused look. "What do _you_ like?"

An almost feline-like grin spread across Zexion's face at the opening he'd just been granted. _If he won't say something, I guess I will just have to take the first step. _Lifting a hand, he rested it on Demyx's cheek once again, brushing aside a crumb on the corner of the blond's cheek. "I like to read, to write, a lovely hot cup of tea... I suppose I like my family, even though they sometimes act like idiots," he chuckled a little.

"But do you want to know what I _really_ like?" he leaned closer to the musician, deep blue locking with bright jade.

"Y-yes," Demyx whispered, heart in his throat.

"What I really like, Demyx... is _you_," Zexion whispered back, leaning the last few inches to press their lips together. The fingers that came up to tentatively touch first his face and then his hair were as calloused and gentle as Zexion had expected.

"Oh _Zexion_, I like you too... I've _always_ liked you," the blond's voice was a tight whisper as he pulled his crush close for another kiss. "I just never knew how to tell you."

Smiling into the kiss, Zexion asked, "Well now we both know... so what do you want to do about it?"

"D-do you... that is... will you be my boyfriend?" Demyx flushed, looking down and not quite meeting Zexion's eyes.

"Only as long as you'll be mine," he brushed his lips against the blond's, tongue coming out to tease along the crease between them until Demyx opened to him, allowing him in. The soft needy whimper that escaped the musician had the writer pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until both were forced to come up for air.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Demyx asked softly, a goofy grin on his face.

"Because I didn't know the language of you," Zexion smiled back.

Fin

* * *

Woo fluff! Cookies to anyone who reviews! Extra goodies to anyone who catches the name references (both literary and musical!)


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